


Learning to Fly

by RedOrchid



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, Clary Fray & Alec Lightwood Friendship, Fluff, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, M/M, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-10-21 15:05:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17645099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedOrchid/pseuds/RedOrchid
Summary: Guardian angel Alec Lightwood is assigned a new human to watch over after her previous protector is fired. Once on Earth, Alec finds he’s not alone on the job, however—and that Magnus, a fiery and badass fellow angel, intrigues him far more than his new mission.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Wing!fic! Because there is far too little wing!fic in this fandom.
> 
> Big shoutout to the mods at Shadowhunters 3B Countdown Calendar for the great initiative and also for the lovely banner. Thank you so much!

It happened on just another sunny, beautiful day in the heavenly realm. Alec had spent most of it watching the sunrise over Earth from different parts of the world and taking some of the smaller cherubs out to the South Pacific to look at dolphins playing in the waves. He was just on his way back to the Clave headquarters to finalise an overdue report when Jace, another angel and Alec’s closest friend, materialised next to him and collapsed in a cluster of pink clouds, looking decidedly worse for wear.

“Hey.” 

Jace was covered in soot from head to toe, and his wings looked severely singed at the edges. Alec took a couple of steps closer to him, crouched down and brushed away some burned feathers from his shoulder. 

“Did you fly too close to the dragon again?”

Jace shook his head, not making any other attempts to move from where he was.

“Annoy the leprechauns?”

“No.”

“Please tell me you weren't actually stupid enough to go volcano-hopping with the fire spirits after what happened last time?”

“Oh, please,” Jace huffed. “Of course not.”

Alec frowned. “So what happened?”

Jace made a miserable sound and dug himself deeper into the clouds, muttering something about “Clary” and “painting” and “if you don’t want someone’s honest opinion about your stupid experimental phase, maybe you shouldn’t ask for it”.

Alec rolled his eyes. Of course. Jace and his mundane had had another fight. What else was new?

Except— 

“Are you saying your  _ mundane _ set you on fire?” he asked incredulously. “Can they even do that?”

Before Jace had a chance to reply, another angel came into view, bigger and brighter than both Jace and Alec and holding an impressive roll of parchment in her right hand. She looked absolutely livid.

“Are you out of your mind?” she hissed, addressing Jace, who quickly got to his feet and tried to brush the worst of the soot off his damaged clothes. “It's called  _ holy fire _ , Jace! Not play-with-as-you-like fire! It’s part of the sacred flame of life, for God’s sake—given to the angels to help battle the darkest of hellish creatures in times of desperate need, not for  _ smiting mundane objects _ in times of  _ childish temper tantrums! _ ”

Alec winced in sympathy. Jace kept his head down, mumbling something that sounded a lot like “Clary” and “special circumstances” under his breath.

“Sorry, what was that?” Maryse asked pointedly, and Jace promptly shut his mouth again. “I don’t care what your mundane did this time, Jace. I don’t care how adamant she was to get her way or what she said about your divine taste in art. You’re a level four guardian angel. You have existed in the world for over three thousand years. You should be able to handle a  _ eighteen-year-old mundane _ without blatantly abusing your heavenly powers!”

Maryse’s voice seemed to echo around the three of them long after the last word had left her lips. She also seemed to have grown to about twice her original size during the outburst.

“I'm sorry,” Jace said, biting his lip as though he wanted to say something else but realised that silence was the better option. “It won’t happen again.”

“You're damn right it won’t,” Maryse replied, unrolling the scroll in her hand, “because I'm removing you from your post. You and this girl are obviously a bad combination, so I will transfer her to somebody else—someone with a little more patience, who takes the rules a little more seriously than you do—and you will get a new mundane to watch over.”

“What?” Jace said, suddenly very pale, even with the soot covering him. “No! Maryse, you can’t do that! Clary’s  _ mine _ . She—she  _ needs _ me.”

“The Fairchild girl needs an angel,” Maryse said dismissively. “Someone to guide her on her chosen path and make sure no danger comes too close to her. Seems to me that what  _ you’re _ doing is making her withdraw from mundane society altogether, spending all her time alone with you, breaking rules left, right and centre.”

“But—”

“It’s not how guardianship works,” Maryse interrupted firmly. “I know it’s different with a mundane who sees you. It’s easy to step over the line and become too involved in their lives when that happens. But, Jace, you are so far past the line that I’m not sure you even see it anymore.”

Jace opened his mouth again, clearly set on arguing back. Maryse held up a hand, and silence fell around them.

“You manifest,” she said, eyes locked with Jace’s. “That’s another ‘only when absolutely necessary’ that you have taken to mean ‘whenever Clary Fairchild wants me to’. You spend an unhealthy amount of time together. You find faults with every mundane suitor who expresses an interest in her. You let your bickering escalate to the point where you  _ eradicated her easel from the physical plane _ . Jace—” Maryse’s voice softened, a rueful smile settling on her lips. “You’re not being her guardian. You’re being her friend. You’re letting her fall in love with you, and it’s not fair, because you’re not mundane and you can’t be what she needs. Letting yourself get caught up in mundane emotion the way you are isn’t right. We are here to protect the mundanes, not to share the lives they live. You know this.”

Jace looked back at Maryse for a long time and then lowered his head.

“Who will you pick?” he asked quietly, doing his best to keep a tremble out of his voice. “When, you know...”

Alec reached out and put a careful hand on Jace's back, sending a small jolt of strength and faith out through this fingers. Jace leaned into him, singed feathers brushing against Alec's shoulder, blinking furiously as though he’d got something in his eye.

Maryse’s eyes moved from Jace to Alec and back again, quietly assessing. “I'll come up with something,” she said, making a few notes and rolling the scroll back up. “Don’t worry. It will all turn out okay.”

She faded from view, leaving Alec alone with Jace in the field of clouds. Jace shifted closer, burying his face in the curve of Alec’s neck and clinging desperately as his whole body began to shake. A confused frown spread on Alec’s face; tears were flowing from Jace’s eyes—except angels didn’t cry, so they couldn’t be tears. Crying was something mundanes did. Grief and pain (like bliss and love) were things they felt. Not the higher beings.

The higher beings existed to help the mundanes through those things.

Alec had known Jace since they came into existence, born on the same day from the same wisp of white smoke. They had lived side by side ever since. Holding Jace in his arms and not knowing what was happening to him stung in a way that prickled under Alec's skin and made him feel slightly nauseous. He squeezed Jace tighter the way he often saw mundanes do, stroking Jace's wings and hair with steady hands until Jace quieted down against him.

“Promise you'll never leave me,” Jace whispered into his neck, and Alec found himself tightening his hold.

“Don’t be stupid. We’re angels, remember? Stuck on this cloud from now to eternity, like Izzy always says.” Alec smiled his brightest smile, the one that never failed to get Jace to smile back.

Except for today, apparently.

Jace looked up at him, eyes red and face wet, looking so much like one of Alec’s mundanes that Alec felt disoriented and wrong all over again.

“It’ll be fine,” he tried again, stroking the outside of Jace’s wing with his own. “You’ll see.”

***

Three days later, after Maryse came back to announce that Alec—with his exemplary record—was just the kind of principled guidance an adventurous mundane like Clary Fairchild needed, Alec was one mundane soul ward and a million colourful threats from Jace richer for his troubles. He sighed inwardly as he made his way down to Earth, arriving at a bedroom in a small, but homey apartment in the middle of the night. The young mundane was lying in bed, sleeping soundly amidst piles of colourful pillows. Alec took a moment to look around, noting the general lack of furniture and the mess of paints and canvas filling up the space in its place.

Deciding that he might as well get to work, he reached out and touched Clary’s temple, intending to take a quick look at her dreams.

“I'm still mad at you,” Clary mumbled, “but I'm glad your wings are okay.”

Alec pulled his hand back in surprise, looking down. Clary’s face was still mostly buried in the pillows, but her eyes were partly open and focusing on the spot in front of her where the tip of Alec's right wing was resting on the mattress.

Alec immediately took a step back and gave himself a little shake to refocus. Out of all the mortal charges he’d had over the centuries, only a few had been blessed with the sight, and for a second, it had slipped his mind that Clary was among their number. He cleared his throat, taking another step back as Clary turned her head, fully opened her eyes—and cried out in shock.

“Who are you? What are you doing in my room?”

Alec took a slow breath and did his best to turn his face into something open and soothing. “Don’t be afraid. I’m Alexander, and I’m your guardian angel. I’ve been—”

“No, you’re not,” Clary interrupted him. “My angel’s Jace.”

“Not anymore. Like I said—”

“Why? Did something happen to him?”

Alec took a long, even breath. “He’s fine. He’s just been reassigned for the moment.”

“For the moment?” Clary insisted. “When will he be back?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Okay, in that case, who else can I talk to about this?” Clary asked. “Is there an angel manager or something?”

For a brief, glorious second, Alec pictured her in the Great Hall of Angels, standing in front of Archangel Herondale, who probably hadn’t even seen a mundane in several millennia. Then he took another look at Clary’s determined face and figured that trying to reason with her tonight would be pretty pointless.

“I’ll be back tomorrow; go back to sleep,” he said, escaping the new wave of protests that began to flow from Clary’s mouth by fading out of the room.

***

He came back into his regular form in the dark hallway outside the Fairchild apartment and took a moment to re-centre himself. Now that he’d met his new charge, he could feel the mystical link begin to form between them—the slight imprint of Clary’s soul on his grace that would allow him to know if she found herself in a situation where she needed his help. For the moment, the link was quiet, except for an undertone of frustration and confusion. A little later, a telephone rang inside the apartment, followed by the feedback through the link changing into something… giddy? Alec frowned, unable to put his finger on the strange sensation.

“You’re new.”

Alec spun on his heel, his grace expanding instantly to form a protective layer around him in response to potential danger. His wings flared, and the holster at his thigh where he kept his blade came into view, as well as the bow and arrows strapped to a harness on his back.

“Who’s there?”

At first, he saw nothing but the dark corridor in front of him. Then a spark of gold flashed, growing until it formed a pair of gleaming eyes, followed by a man materialising in front of him. 

Alec couldn’t help but stare. The man was tall and broad-shouldered, with black hair and brown skin that formed a stark contrast to his brilliantly golden eyes. He wore a long, black coat adorned with gemstones, high in the neck so that only his face could be seen clearly, the heavy drape of fabric cleverly disguising any weapons he might be carrying. What struck Alec numb, however, was the space behind him, where large, gleaming black wings protruded from the man’s back. They stretched and moved slightly, reflecting the soft glow emanating from Alec’s grace in deep reds and purples.

_ An Ignis _ . A breath caught in his throat as realisation hit.

The Ignum were angels of fire, a mystical race as old as Alec’s own, and with whom diplomatic relations had always been tenuous at best. Alec had never met one in person, but he’d heard the stories: of passion and blood and magic; of strength and arrogance and recklessness; of lack of clear rational thinking and decorum which made it impossible to involve them in any political policy. They were warriors and warlocks, charged with keeping the ever-looming threat of escaped hell creatures at bay—their realm placed strategically between Earth and the demon dimensions. Alec knew they were frequent visitors to Earth, some even choosing to live hidden amongst the mundanes for periods of time. They tended to stay well away from Alec’s people, however, so to meet one here, at the home of his new charge just moments after being appointed to the mission seemed… ominous.

The man in front of him shifted his weight, and Alec saw a flash of seraph blade through the parting in his coat. The man caught him looking and smiled, slow and unreadable. Then let his coat fall open with a casual wave of his hand, his stance relaxing into something open and inviting. “If I show you mine, will you show me yours?”

As Alec kept staring, at loss of what was going on, the man drew his blade from its sheath. The adamas inside lit up a deep, ruby red as he touched it, infusing the runes carved into the metal with ancient magic. Then he held it out to Alec, the point angled towards the ground.

Dumbfounded, Alec’s hand automatically went to his own blade, his mind screaming out warnings as he unsheathed it and held it out, matching the man’s insane offering with one of his own. As the blades shifted hands, the adamas shifted colours: Alec’s blade morphing from its regular bluish-white to deep red in the Ignis’ hand; the other man’s unfamiliar weapon, in turn, glowing bright white in his own.

“So what happened to Blondie?” the man asked, as he casually held up Alec’s blade in front of his face, admiring its lines. “Did Biscuit finally realise she could do better and kicked him back up to the clouds?”

Alec tore his eyes away from the man’s hands, trying to process the words. “What?”

“Blondie,” the Ignis repeated. “Mostly blue eyes, big white wings, the other lead in my young charge’s self-proclaimed epic love story? I figured you guys would know each other?”

_ Jace _ . Apprehension raced up the length of Alec’s spine.  _ Epic love story? _

Then another part of the Ignis’ words hit him.

“Wait.  _ Your _ charge?”

The Ignis raised an eyebrow. “Clary and her mother are clients of mine. I’ve kept an eye on her since she was born.”

Alec narrowed his eyes. “You’re not mentioned in her file.”

The other man snorted. “Oh, please. I have no wish to tangle in angel affairs. Besides, your brother isn’t exactly the brightest star in the sky when Clary’s around to distract him.” He finished his examination of Alec’s blade and held it back out to him, a glint of mischief sparking in his eyes. “What about you, then, Angel? Got a name and a mission to go with that handsome face?”

A curious, hot sensation bloomed inside Alec at the words. It spread through his chest, up his neck, causing his breath to stutter and his face feel as though he’d just flown a little too close to the sun. 

“I, um—Alec,” he blurted inelegantly. He mentally shook himself, then tried again. “Alexander Lightwood. I’m here to watch over Clary Fairchild.”

The Ignis placed his blade back into his hand, their fingers brushing lightly, causing Alec to draw an sharp, involuntary breath. “Magnus Bane. Pleasure to meet you.”

Alec cleared his throat. Adjusted his stance. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

“Oh, I bet it could be,” Magnus said. He took another step closer, into Alec’s space, as he reached out and retrieved his own weapon from where it hung uselessly at Alec’s side. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

He threw Alec another wink and pulled back, one of his massive, black wings brushing against Alec’s shoulder as he turned to snap a portal into existence. 

Alec kept staring after him long after he was gone, the skin of his shoulder tingling.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New discoveries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, guys. My life went a bit crazy for a bit.  
> This chapter has coffee and geysers to make up for it. XD

The second time Alec went to visit his new charge, he found Clary in an altogether different mood. She was moving around the kitchen, preparing breakfast for herself and singing under her breath. As Alec looked closer, he noticed several small, fading bruises at the base of her throat.

He reached out with his grace to get a better read of the girl’s emotions and found his suspicions confirmed. He had to admit that he was surprised Clary would take a lover so quickly, considering how insular he knew she’d been under Jace’s protection. Forming relationships with other mundanes was undoubtedly a good development since the handover, though; Alec stretched his wings and preened a little.

He watched her for a moment longer and then cleared his throat to make his presence known.

Clary turned towards him, a dreamy smile still on her face. “Morning, Alec.”

“Good morning.”

“Do you like coffee?” Clary asked. “I can make an extra cup.”

Alec regarded the purple novelty cup in her hand with some scepticism. “I wouldn't know.”

“What? You’ve never had coffee before?”

“No.”

“Really? Never ever? Are you a new angel or something?”

“No. Just disciplined. We have sacred duties, and they don’t involve taking part in mundane experiences.”

Clary took a sip from her cup and hummed happily. “That’s kind of sad. Don't you ever get curious?”

Alec rolled his eyes. Was there even a point to this conversation? “Sometimes. But it passes.”

Clary looked up, and then held the cup out to him. “You want to try? Do the hug-friendly no-wings thing?”

“The... _what?_ ”

“You know,” Clary said, “the thing where you go all _flash_ and fade-from-black and turn mundane for a while.”

“It’s called _manifestation_ ,” Alec said pointedly. “And it’s not allowed unless there’s an absolute emergency, so no, I won't be doing it to taste your coffee.”

“Aw, come on,” Clary said, holding the cup up higher and somehow making her eyes look five times their normal size. “Please? I promise you'll love it.”

“No.”

“Okay, well, at least drink it with me? That’s part of the gig, right? Checking in with how I’m doing and stuff?”

Alec started at that. “Um. What?”

“Like this,” Clary said, moving a little closer. “Jace showed me how you guys can sort of... tap into what I’m feeling, I guess. Put your hands over mine. Come on, it’s not going to hurt you.”

Against his better judgement, Alec did.

“Okay, so lean over the cup. Breathe. Do you feel how good it smells? Is it getting stronger?”

Alec nodded. A voice at the back of his head argued that this was not in any way relevant to his mission, and that he should stop immediately. For once in his existence, Alec chose to ignore it, increasingly fascinated by the sensations filtering through his grace.

“Okay, so I always blow a little at the surface before taking the first sip,” Clary said. “Just to cool it down a bit and not burn my tongue. The first sip is always the best one, so you want it to be perfect, right? You ready?”

Alec nodded again. He could feel the scent of the beverage wrap itself around him, seeping into his senses and leaving a pleasant hum of anticipation in its wake.

Clary tilted the cup slowly, lowering her mouth to the brim. Alec felt the smell grow stronger.

The first taste flooded his grace with an impossible combination of rich, bitter flavours, masked just enough by a creamy surface that Alec immediately wanted more. He focused more of his grace unto Clary’s hands, drinking in the taste and smell of the coffee through her for as long as he was able.

All too quickly, Clary put the cup down, laughing at his put-upon expression. “Hang on, this is even better.”

She started rummaging around the cabinets until he found a small tin.

“Chocolate truffles,” she said. “I still have some left from my birthday; my mom knows this amazing little place. Anyway, they are even better if you eat them with coffee, so. Put your hands back?”

Alec did. A lot more eagerly than he would have liked to admit.

“Oh God,” he whispered, closing his eyes and trying to chase some of the taste he could almost feel in his own mouth. “Oh. My. God. You get to _eat_ this kind of stuff?”

“Yep,” Clary said smugly. “And you could too, you know. Just relax and live a little.”

She took out another truffle and offered it to him. Alec felt himself start to shift before he could consciously think about it. He stopped himself just in time, sending Clary a withering look.

Fuck. This was _not_ good.

“I’m going to check the perimeter,” he said, narrowing his eyes further when Clary tried and failed to hide a smirk. “Don’t… get in trouble.”

Clary’s laughter followed him out of the room, causing the back of Alec’s neck to burn in indignation. He quickly transported himself out of the apartment and into the busy street below, where the chaos of hundreds of people effectively blocked out everything else.

He walked with the press of the crowd for a while, before coming to a stop next to a crosswalk. On the other side of the street people kept disappearing into a building, and when they came back out again, they were carrying paper cups that sent out the same alluring smell he’d just escaped.

He swallowed hard. Maybe if he just stepped inside to take in the scent for a bit? As long as no one realised he was there, that had to be okay, right? He debated with himself for a good long while, but in the end, the memory of the coffee won out, and he crossed the street, slipping inside the shop.

***

“Alexander. Fancy meeting you here.”

Alec started, struggling to refocus his senses on the voice addressing him. Sometime since entering the coffee shop and deciding to siphon just a tiny bit of sensation off a mundane eating a truly delicious-looking chocolate muffin, he’d lost track of his surroundings and—his eyes fell on a large clock on the opposite wall—all concept of time, apparently. He raised his hands to his face, rubbing at his eyes, groaning softly.

A second chair was pulled up next to the one Alec was sitting in, a solid, warm presence lowering itself into it. A thrill went through Alec as he recognised the Ignis he’d met outside of Clary’s apartment the other night.

Magnus’ wings folded themselves neatly against his back as he leaned towards Alec, frowning. “Everything okay?”

Alec blinked, unsure. His entire being felt sluggish, satisfied and _saturated_ in a way he didn’t have a frame of reference for. The mix of a hundred different flavours still clung to his grace, buzzing against his senses.

“I—um. I’m not sure.”

Magnus chuckled, low in his throat. A hand came down on top of Alec’s, pulling a sharp gasp from him as heat shot up his arm and into his body, burning away some of the haze clouding his mind.

“There,” Magnus said, as the heat withdrew, leaving only a pleasant tingling in its wake. “That’s better, right?”

Alec nodded. He drew a deep breath, closing his eyes as he felt his grace settle back into its usual state. “Thank you.”

Magnus chuckled again. “Don’t mention it; it happens to the best of us. This place is dangerous in how good their fare is.”

Alec pushed himself up higher in his chair, leaning forward to let his wings stretch a little. “What happened to me?”

“You overindulged,” Magnus replied easily. “It’s easy to do when you’ve been away from Earth for a while. How long has it been for you? A couple of centuries?”

“What—no, I’ve been on active duty for the past two millennia,” Alec said. “I just—usually my charges aren’t aware that I’m there, so I watch them from a distance. They don’t _interact_ with me. Or convince me to try mundane things.”

“Ah,” Magnus replied, a knowing smile on his face. “Well, Biscuit can be _very_ convincing when she wants to; I don’t blame you in the slightest. Once, when she was fifteen, she managed to trick me into portalling her to Tokyo for some band she wanted to see. I’m still not sure how she managed it.”

Alec’s eyes boggled. “You took a mundane with your through a portal? That’s—” He swallowed as he considered the ramifications. “—at least six separate level-two infractions,” he finished weakly.

Magnus smirked. “Good thing I’m not bound by Clave law then,” he said. “Now, how about we get out of here? I bet you could use some actual food to counteract all the sugar still clinging to your system.”

He stood from his chair and held out his hand, fingers beckoning Alec closer. The mischievous look in his eyes should have made Alec wary; instead, it sent a spark of excitement rushing down his spine.

He stood up, unfurling his wings behind him as he grabbed Magnus’ hand.

“Lead the way.”

***

“This is _incredible_.”

In front of him, a barren plain stretched all the way to the ocean. They were seated high up on the side of a volcano, in a perfect position to watch the ground below split apart now and then, sending jets of scalding water into the air. Each outbreak fuelled Alec’s grace, making him feel full and at peace with the universe. Next to him, Magnus hummed in agreement, his wings stretching to catch every bit of thermological change in the air.

“It’s one of my favourite places to recharge,” he said. “There’s something about the direct connection with the earth’s core that just brings… clarity, don’t you think?”

He looked up at Alec, a poorly hidden smile touching his lips. Alec breathed in deeply, then flexed his wings. “Thousands of years, and I haven’t been able to find a spot quite like this. How did you discover it?”

Magnus leaned forward, crossing over into Alec’s space with a wink, as he pointed towards a crack in the mountain below. “There’s a potential rift right over there. Demons like to try their luck every century or so, so we always have someone stationed here, keeping guard.”

Alec nodded as he processed the information. “And at one time, that was you?”

“It’s currently me, actually,” Magnus replied. “We’re a bit short-staffed at present, so I’ve kept this location as part of my regular rotation.”

Alec nodded again, closing his eyes to fully enjoy the moment. When he focused his senses in the direction Magnus had pointed to, he could feel the slow pulsation of energy coming from the rift. At the moment, it felt contained, but he could sense that there was power trapped there, a sinuous pulse pushing against its bonds, trying to break free.

“What's it like?” he heard himself ask. “Guarding the gates, I mean?”

“it's mostly uneventful, to be honest,” Magnus replied. “Every now and then, some lesser demons break through, but they're usually easy to get rid of. It's been centuries now since we had a larger breach.”

“Sound a lot like our missions,” Alec said. “On average, my charges need my help less than five times during their lives. There's a lot of waiting around.”

“Another sunrise, another day,” Magnus agrees. “So what do you normally do to pass the time?”

Alec shrugged. “Nothing much. If I’m down here, I like to just walk around creation. If I’m up in the realm, there’s usually paperwork needing to be filed. What about you?”

“Oh, I tend to stay away from home as much as possible,” Magnus replied. “My father has great plans for me, which include a lot more politics than I feel comfortable with. I like it here on Earth. Everything moves in cycles, but, somehow, there are still always people who manage to surprise you. Besides, the views are simply _gorgeous_.”

He shifted in his seat, leaning closer to Alec and giving him a slow, breathtaking smile, before turning his face towards the horizon to bask in the light of the rising sun.

Alec swallowed. As well-fed as his grace felt now, something else—some unfamiliar part of him—kept pulling at his attention, needing something he didn’t know how to define. It prickled beneath his skin, heating him from the inside and shortening his breath. His eyes fell to Magnus’ profile, to the small, happy smile still curling the edge of his lips, and the feeling intensified. The natural energy of the place seemed to gather inside and around him, making him hyper-aware of every point where his body touched the ground, as well as the distance between himself and Magnus. A gentle breeze passed them by, ruffling the feathers on his wings, and Alec leaned into it on instinct, his wings stretching to their full width in the crisp morning air. A jolt of heat went through him when, suddenly, instead of air, there were smooth feathers against his, Magnus’ wings moving to meet his, the sides of them pressing together.

“Alec…” Magnus voice reached his ears, sounding low and affected. Alec opened his eyes—not sure when they’d fallen shut in the first place—and promptly lost what breath he had left. Magnus’ eyes had turned back to the deep, molten gold of their first meeting, and his wings were curved around his body, reflecting the morning light in a kaleidoscope of colour as they stretched towards Alec’s. Alec reached out without thinking, pulled forward by the same unknown hunger he'd felt since arriving at this place. His grace found Magnus’ and pulled him in, letting himself be overtaken in turn by the glory of another angel’s power fully meeting his own.

Light flared around them, and Alec almost jumped back in alarm. Communing with Jace and Izzy was always wonderful: strength, tranquility and belonging flowing through their familial bond as easily as they each stretched their wings and flew. Touching his grace to Magnus left him with a similar sense of joy, but at the same time, the two experiences couldn’t have been more different. Where Izzy’s and Jace’s graces flowed through his own like wisps of white smoke, Magnus’ burned like an open flame, hot and all-consuming. Alec felt their connection _everywhere_ , from the soles of his feet to the tip of every feather in his wings. He surged forward and caught Magnus’ arms in his hands, holding onto him desperately as waves of heat began to roll through him.

“ _Oh_.” The word broke from Magnus’ throat, the single syllable somehow, impossibly, managing to encompass and mirror the sensations flooding Alec’s being. Then Magnus was reaching out as well, hands sliding up Alec’s chest to his neck, fingers curling around the back of his head as he pulled their bodies flush together.

A soft moan broke from Alec’s throat, his eyes subconsciously dropping to Magnus’ mouth. He’d seen it a million times, how the mundanes would connect their bodies there, sliding their lips together as a sign of affection, intimacy, lust, love—

He pulled back with a sharp, shocked intake of breath, twisting out of Magnus’ arms and breaking the connection. Heat continued to swirl through him, Magnus’ grace still reaching for his, and Alec’s own yearning to rush forth and meet it. He stumbled further back, holding up his hand between them to create more distance.

“Wait. _Stop_.”

Magnus’ looked back at him, his golden eyes hazy with confusion. Then worry overtook his expression, and he blinked, pulling himself back and letting his arms fall to his sides. “What’s wrong?”

Alec nearly laughed. His mind was spinning, trying to catalogue the onslaught of new emotions. His body felt _alive_ , no longer a simple vessel for his grace, but something _more_ —something holding infinite possibility and infinite danger all at once.

“Alexander..?”

Alec felt his eyes flutter closed, his wings subconsciously flexing, trying to increase their reach. He swayed forward, heat rushing up within him anew as his grace expanded towards Magnus’, brushing against the Ignis’ in the lightest of touches.

_What in the heavens’ name was happening to him?_

He wet his lips, trying to pull his mind back into a rational state, when a different—all too familiar—sensation blazed through him. He immediately turned his focus inward, reaching through the connection to his ward. Fear and adrenaline flooded the link, filling him with a sense of utmost urgency.

He looked back at Magnus, pushing aside contradictory feelings of disappointment and relief as their eyes met.

“It's Clary. She's in trouble.”

***

They landed in the middle of chaos.

Shadowy shapes filled a dark alleyway, hissing and spitting as they circled the prey caught in their midst. Alec saw a flash of red hair and lept towards it, his blade manifesting in his hand as he went. It lit up in his grasp, slicing through the demons closest to him, making them dissipate into acrid, black smoke. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blast of red as Magnus attacked from the other side, burning through the demons as they shrieked in anger.

He advanced quickly through the frey, making swift work of banishing any demons that tried to put up a fight. Through the connection, he could feel Clary’s strength begin to falter, determination and anger morphing towards panic as her reserves ran dry and she stumbled and fell. Further down the alley, another human gave a pained cry as demons latched on to his back, and Clary’s response was immediate: fear flooded Alec’s grace, almost crippling in its intensity. With another burst of speed, he made it to his ward's side, planting his blade into the ground to send out a shockwave of angelic light.

The demons shrieked and fell back, and Clary was back on her feet in seconds, sprinting towards the fallen boy while pulling an all-too-familiar-looking dagger out from inside her jacket. Alec stood, stunned, for a split second, wondering _how the hell_ a mundane had got her hands on an angelic blade, before jumping back into action. He fought swiftly through the last throngs of demons, red blazes of power joining the bright flashes produced by his own grace to help dissipate the last of their foes. Within minutes, the alleyway was clear, the only movement left caused by the two mundanes, as Clary fell to her knees by the boy’s side, pulling him off the ground and into her arms.

“Well, that was invigorating,” Magnus said, sauntering up to him and giving him a wink as he tossed his blade into the air and caught it again. “Now, what do you say we—”

He broke off, his eyes caught by something to his right. Alec watched as his jaw fell, Magnus’ face freezing in an expression of complete disbelief.

Alec frowned and followed his gaze. Clary was kissing the mundane boy now, her hair obscuring both their faces from view. He was just about to ask what had Magnus so shook up when he saw it: the shadow of a pair of large, angelic wings forming on the ground beneath the boy’s back.

“ _Jace_.” The name fell from Alec’s lips without thought, the awful truth blooming in his mind as the couple in front of him broke apart guiltily. Alec’s attention immediately went to the boy, seeing through the veneer of mundane features and clothes and finding himself staring into eyes he’d known forever. “Jace, what did you _do_?”

Jace pushed himself off the ground, pulling Clary with him. Both of them were drawing themselves up to their full height, a defiant glint in their eyes mixing with unmistakable fear.

“I fell,” Jace said simply, giving Alec a rueful smile and a casual shrug, even as Alec felt his heart plummeting. “Clary and I are spending the rest of our lives together.”

**Author's Note:**

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